Long January Poems
Long January Poems. Below are the most popular long January by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long January poems by poem length and keyword.
Grinning at revelry on amber arc of twilight sky
Silently in my embrace you whisper, asking why,
I hang my dreams on the wings of twinkling stars
And let them wander in space searching for mars;
So I point you to freedom, buoying eagle’s flight
And the moonlit horizon shimmering your sight
And the expanse of blue oceans bouncing in tides
And the invisible force of universe gravity guides.
As I hold you in my arms, to fold you in my heart
I assure you that nothing will ever keep us apart,
For you will always reside in my every thought
And be the flame of passion euphoric dreams allot;
Affirming my love in beauty of primrose flowers
And rainbow of colors past the retreating showers.
Oh, how I hold you near, treasuring you my dear
Serenading gift of future in endearments hearts revere,
Ready to engage the night in my romantic themes
As you walk in my reveries in dawn’s golden beams;
Step gently in my soul to amble in my dreams,
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
January 31, 2020
Placed 2nd: Famous poetic lines that inspire poetry contest
Sponsor: Silent One
“Tread softly because you tread on my dreams” By W. B. Yeats
From the poem Aedh Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven
Placed 3rd: Strand select B contest by Brian Strand
OUT FROM THE HEAVENS
Came this dazzling beautiful Gem, hurtling towards me
tail aglow, streaking across the darkened sky,
bearing an energy that lit up all I could ever want to see.
Her radiance so pure, this I saw in her eye
as a desire rose up in this hardened heart, wanting to be,
with her, to know her, to feel her and fly.
Her soft Soul, and Her warm Spirit, put reason
into the decay of this Winter's season.
Her, wonderful heart lit up the darkness,
reshaped, for me, my universe
as I watched Her, dance with the stars,
dance with the Sun, Venus, Jupiter and Mars.
The energy She, exuded was reason to dance through all eternity
as I felt all around me shrivel, turn away, show modesty.
The full Moon's glow paled in comparison to Her beauty.
In fact, as a matter of fact, Lady Moon, turns her back on man
when ever this beautiful Gem, appeared on Her, beams of light,
brightening up the gloomy hours of this One's, long, alone night.
This cosmic Gem, radiated such warmth, gave reason, gave life,
created a joy, made it a delight to walk in Winter's, decay, rife
with unknowns, uncertainties and very little time
to sit down, compose for Her, the perfect rhyme
that could show Her, the rhythms this Solar Wind, plays
upon the shades of this Universe's, dance on rays.
Rays, waves of light from the sun, the planets, the stars
lighting up a beautiful dance I thought could have been ours
If this old Soul, - blinded - thought, would have known
all that this brilliant Gem, offered, She, had shown.
The facets of this lovely Gem, are like a flake of Snow.
In the cold darkness of my life, I came to know
With the heat of my passion, the dawning of Another,- day
the warmth of a son, has come and melted you away.
I look upon the surface of our time and see only a water mark,
an impression of the Gem, the flake of Snow, is but a stark
reminder of the Beauty, I once touched, songs from this Lark, -
so exquisite, so angelic - I once floated among, now in the dark.
B. J. "A" 2
January 27th 2011
In the final Analysis
Destiny – she seems to, always be shutting the gate.
She has been, closing in, her garden on my fate.
She has been given the opportunity to know my dreams,
but nothing of my desires, does she want, it seems.
I would love to know the sun setting in her Autumn green eyes,
To lie the night long / the morning into the sun rise
from her beautiful face, feel the warmth – hidden – it could bring
to this aching heart, this alone soul, my world, to make birds sing.
The pain, the heart ache, much to great- for my desire,
to live on with the direction it has been heading – ashes from fire
are what I feel, dust - I can not, will not pay for what is not for me.
The price to high for a foundation weak – to high the fee
for what does not already exist – really – as I see
it – in what does not come from the heart.
Expectations of trivial matters ! – pursuits of ?, - no place to start !
B. J. “A” 2
January 23rd 2007
18.7
“Seeing everything is imagination,
knowing the Self as timelessly free,
the sage lives as a child”
18.8
“Knowing himself as Absolute,
knowing existence and non-existence
to be imagination only,
what is there for the desireless one
to learn, say or do?”
Employing conscious thought to choose meditation
Then handing over the baton of awareness to intuition
Intuition resting in the stream flowing Divine connection
Rests allowing manifestation of ineffable blissful elation
If the point we miss
The learning is this
Just be to become
With Divine Love one
In childlike innocence
Without resistance
(23-August-2019)
~~~
Verse 18.7 to 18.8 revisited on 12-January-2022
What is the underlying noumena
Birthing all manifest phenomena
Self-hypnosis in the hall of mirrors
Fears and desires giving us shivers
Being but illusions we did manifest
Akin to a lucid dream playful jest
At day’s end we slip into deep sleep
Thoughts fade, bliss sinks in deep
We awake each morn sans memory
In stupor continuing our life journey
Yet while awake if we opt for silence
We reclaim divinity of our innocence
Oh worthy lama, cessation the way
Fearless, desireless, given to play
In monk mode embrace and release
Free flowing like the morning breeze
Presence within but not of the world
Sees with each breath, joy unfurled
Mind-body that hitherto was subject
Shifts into the void, thus an object
Pristine awareness free from thought
Devoid of thought, is not fear fraught
That that remains our soul presence
Blissful love and light luminescence
Gently, the wind ripples my pellucid wings as I silently soar
I fly alone, always alone
Mockingbirds lulling ancestral melodies of impending slumber
Their reverie is not for me, never for me
A menagerie of images infuse my senses with immense, intense gratitude
Gliding abreast the frangipani scented winds, beholden to the creator
O’er fields ~ luscious waves of sun stroked, vermilion painted fauna
Swaying, in perfect rhythm, to the whispers of the warm breezes
The surreal beauty of twilight tints the stratus with strokes of love
I climb the winds then, to heavenly heights … imbued with earthly sensations.
____________________________________________________
January 7, 2018
Written for Contest: 10 Words and 10 Lines Challenge
Sponsor: Silent One
~Rondelets~
(Nonet)
Rondelets are a nice style to try
Let me tell you now that this form
Is really nice to try
I've done it a few times
It wasn't bad at all
And they are fun
Just write one
You'll like
Them
~Rondelets~
(Acrostic)
Rondelets are a nice poetry form
Only way to know is try one yourself
No other form is quite like this one is
Don't tell me I didn't warned you about it
Employ this form and you'll be hooked for life
Lines can go smooth when you're doing this style
Endlessly you want to write just many more
This form quickly can grow on you one day
Style like this I will never stop writing
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2015
January,16,2015
[Contains - for effect - deliberate miss-spelling
and bad grammar]
That old pirate cave was a tourist attraction
The guide was in period dress
In old pirate garb and a well practiced script
This tale he would tell to impress…
*
“Rob ‘The Rum’ was often glum
It’s how the grog would make him
And spiteful too, with things he’d do
And kids would go home shaking
He’d scare with ‘pirate antics’ boasts
And frighten them with tales of ghosts
Until one day they all fled, crying
But horses hooves left six there, dying
At threat of the noose they told him deny
the stories he’d told and that ghosts were a lie
At last he conceded, then lost and dejected
said, ‘There ain’t no ghosts, I stand here corrected.’
But justice it seems weren’t too fair in them days
So though he concurred he was hanged anyways
But maybe his God tried to save that old sot
For his neck never broke with the slip of the knot
And so with legs kickin like some headless chicken
He begged and he pleaded to be cutted down
And folk turned away but one heard him say
‘My ghost shall forever lay waste to this town.’
And even today there’s people what say
They’ve seen old Rob here in his cave
I do not deceive and you should believe
That you’re either you’re stupid or brave.”
*
Then outside the cave into which they were crammed
A loud banging sound as a car door slammed
Every head turned to see what went on
And the Pirate announced it was time he was gone
An angry, but tatty, faux pirate, appeared
In fancy dress clothes and a clearly fake beard
At first he said nothing, his face wore a sneer
And then he yelled, “How did you lot get in here?”
One visitor said, “Yer man let us in,
the one with ugly great scar on his chin.”
The faux pirate said “It’s a slack time of year
It’s the middle of winter… there’s only me here.”
He turned to the clatter of horses on cobbles
And fled when he had an attack of the wobbles
And a voice, just an echo announced to the party
“You do know there ain’t any ghosts…
Me hearty.”
9 January 2022
Contest: A Ghost Story
Sponsor: Angela Tune
Sense how joy cheers each turn of page,
Prompt choice aligns the words that flow;
Ink stains move spheres of mellow age,
Reap thoughts that sign in discrete show;
Ask for wise wealth to set fond lot,
Live with brave tact the way love lights.
Now discern health in play and plot,
Opt fragrant act that syncs with sight;
Thrill in the feel as moments spring,
Etch in good taste that shrewd calm voice;
Bear with the chill as cold draughts fling,
Observe due haste to seize deep choice;
Offer to be what you allow,
Keep still and see that magic now.
Leon Enriquez
20 January 2017
Singapore
"It's easier to think outside the box if you don't draw one around yourself"
Jason Kravitz
It's ok to be different
to be original in your thoughts
think outside the box
and jump off that beaten path
if everyone thought the same
then these poems would sound the same
so don't draw a box around yourself
break out, be wild,
fuel your imagination
be the problem solver,
not the problem maker
above all
BE YOU!
January 17, 2022
Arriving on this earth just after the war
Never seeing the images my parents saw
Food was still rationed or so I was told
When to see a banana was like striking gold
Today we demand food whenever we want it
Ignoring the air miles, pile food in our basket
Wistfully visiting childhood back then
our life was simpler, as time and time again
we looked after each other; gave support in times of need
our neighbourhood, those halcyon days, a community indeed
Tight knit communities forever they have gone
Neighbours keeping to themselves if ever things go wrong
Often never speaking to the family next door
Greetings now an occasional nod; not caring anymore
Most folk appeared much happier in simpler times back then
They now care less for others; life seems to be all about them
If only they’d embrace the more important things in life
Like kindness, caring and sharing, instead of materialism and strife
Am I searching for Utopia evoking my childhood imaginings
A perfect world cannot exist, for a reality check gives me rude awakenings
Written 24th January 2019
Late January 2019
Brian Strand
1st place